


Technicolor

by debwalsh, HiMiTSu



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky and Shuri are best bros, CACW still happened, Canon-Typical Violence, Cap Steve, Captain America Bign Bang 2018, Captain America Steve Rogers, Depression, Humor, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Romance, Swearing, Wakanda (Marvel), engineer bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: Bucky lost everything when aliens attacked New York. His home, his job, his goddamn arm. It seems he’ll have to live out his days alone and depressed, barely getting by in a tiny, crappy apartment.And then, one day, news about the wealth and prosperity of Wakanda shocks the world. Bucky doesn’t pay it much attention until a job offer finds him. It seems like a joke.  Who would want him - a crippled, penniless engineer - to work for them? But the thing is, Bucky has absolutely nothing else to do. So he takes a chance.And that’s how Bucky comes to meet his teenaged boss (who also happens to be a princess), gets a dream job making gadgets for the Avengers, builds a new life in Wakanda, and last but certainly not the least - meets Captain America, or, as he has a pleasure to call him, Steve.





	Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of Captain America Bign Bang 2018. 
> 
> Story by Himitsu  
> Art by debwalsh
> 
> A huge thank you to [sneaqui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneaqui) for beta reading! You really helped to improve this story! All the remaining mistakes belong to me.
> 
> The story takes place in Wakanda, so you will a lot of references to characters, locations and technology.
> 
> More art will be added during the day!

Bucky loved New York. It was the place where he was born, where he went to school, played sports, kissed his first girlfriend, took out his first boyfriend. It was where he came to calm his heart and restore his nerves after a tour. It was where, when he felt stable enough and confident enough to try, he found his dream job, building robots for a small but forward looking company. It was  _ home _ .

It was also the place where everything went to shit. Who knew aliens would attack New York? That they would wreak havoc on Bucky’s home? That his workplace would be destroyed and a giant alien monster would crash through the building, burying Bucky and his colleagues under the rubble?

Alone in the city. With no job. No money. No fucking  _ arm _ .

And still, Bucky loved New York. That’s why going away was so hard. Even though there was no life for him to leave any more, no big prospects for a man who was jokingly called by his friends ‘a prettier version of Tony Stark’, no personal attachments to warrant melancholy feelings, still he couldn’t help a last glance back as he boarded the plane. Something better awaited him. Bucky had to believe that.

The job offer came as a surprise. He thought it was a joke at first, but Bucky - fighting against his surprise and disbelief - had to say yes.  There was nothing else to do. It was his only way out, presented to him so unexpectedly, so Bucky packed what was left of his belongings, said goodbye to the few friends he still had, and legged it to a private runway just outside the city. 

It was a grey, rainy morning. Heavy dark clouds hung in the sky and it felt like this city would never see the sun again. Everything looked bleak and washed out. Landing pad was a circle of blinding white, raindrops blinking in the searchlights. , The jet was bulky and threatening, looming over Bucky as he crossed the tarmac. It was compact but laden with so much additional equipment and what looked honest-to-god bulletproof armor.

A trace of fear was somewhere there in his heart, anticipation mixed with worry. He had to remind himself again and again that he wasn’t running from anything. . He was running towards a new life.

He was curious to see what Wakanda had to offer.

* * *

The trip took a long time; though still less than an ordinary flight across Atlantic would. Bucky was hanging out at the back of the jet, trying to distract himself with a book, but he got more nervous with every crossed mile. The plane only had one pilot and she was not particularly talkative. Bucky made an honest attempt to start up a conversation with her after their initial greeting, but he didn’t get far. And being too nosy about equipment resulted in a  _ glare _ , which made Bucky take a hasty step away from the dashboard and retreat back to his designated area.

He was given a handbook with a quick survey of Wakandan history, a list of the members of the royal family, a comparatively short one, and a small guide on how to not to act like a complete bumbling fool. That should be useful. It was somewhere around the part about traditional Wakandan market, a place that was rich with culture where a lot of old traditions were still upheld for the sake of future generations, that Bucky started fully freaking out.

What the fuck was he doing? Leaving to work in another country when he knew nothing about its culture and zero it’s language. Granted, he had done that before, but somehow going to Russia right after uni felt less mortifying. Up until a couple months prior everyone believed Wakanda to be an agricultural third world country, now that world was quickly learning just how wrong they were. It was, in truth, part if the appeal: a way in into the place many wanted to catch a glimpse of and he was granted a privilege to see in full. The excitement bore through the fog of apathy that took over his life after the ‘accident’, (his therapist insisted on calling it that. Bucky preferred ‘a shit day that ruined my life’) and there he was. On a futuristic jet that might be even more advanced than anything Stark could come up with.

The enthusiasm that lead him in the first place was still burning even though it was trampled considerably by nerves. He still felt a glance the pilot sent to the empty space where his left arm used to be, shame and helplessness, a defensive retort ready on his lips, but she didn’t comment. In fact, she didn't even linger; shoved the handbook in his chest and stalked away to the cockpit. He had no idea if that encounter went well or not.

Now, after hours of silence she was calling out to him, inviting Bucky to join her at the front of the plane. Bored out of his mind, he hurried up until she could change her mind. 

They were flying over a desert, red sand and some low splaying trees, not a hint of civilization in sight. There was beauty in this, something new. It spoke of a new beginning and allowed him to breathe deeper. 

The biggest shock came a moment later when the air wavered and shifted. Electrified currents ran through what moments before appeared to be empty space, revealing a protective grid that hid--

“Holy hell.” 

A city. A marvel of color. A spread of small houses on the outskirts, a market with bright awnings, a clear blue river cutting through its center. Crowds of people milled in the streets, and Bucky could just imagine the chatter and the music, the laughter, and the songs. He almost wanted to go down and explore.

God, their technology. Buildings towered over this beauty of a city, and in its center stood a wonder of architecture, the tallest tower of all. Sleek black lines, windows glinting in the bright sunlight. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes off of it.

The jet headed straight for the tower, made a sweeping turn, and glided smoothly into a landing. Bucky watched people on the landing pad grow bigger as they descended. 

“You might want to go grab your things,” the pilot offered drily, cutting into Bucky’s awed staring.

He jerked to reality at the sound of her voice and glanced at her just in time to notice the corners of her mouth curl into a smile.

They might become friends yet. If only she would tell him her name.

Bucky shoved the handbook into his duffel and packed up a few other things he used to amuse himself during the flight while they landed. He could barely feel it when the plane touched down.

The ramp slid open soundlessly, and his future best friend stepped out, throwing him an expectant glance over her shoulder.

Bucky hurried after her.

Sun hit his eye as he stepped down the ramp and onto Wakandan soil. He couldn’t see the city from here, the landing sight concealed by tall buildings surrounding it. Did it still count as a castle if technically it was a skyscraper? He was pretty sure by Tony Stark’s standards it did.

His musings were cut short by an amused snort from his pilot - she definitely noticed him spacing out. Without waiting for him to get his bearings, she headed for a small welcoming committee waiting under an awning. Bucky scurried after her, both to escape the heat and to not embarrass himself further.

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes!” said a young girl. Her hair was done up in elaborate buns on either side of her head, her outfit futuristic looking with a coat of see-through, glittering material over a colorful, patterned dress. Bucky didn't get it, but he still enjoyed her style.

Her smile was a touch too amused and her tone carried a note of teasing. Bucky glanced at an older woman standing just behind her, hoping for an explanation. But when the woman just stood at attention and ignored Bucky, he realized that the young girl was the one in charge.

Bucky looked back at the girl. “Hello,” he said, confused..

The girl  beamed up at him as if she knew what was going through his head. 

“I am Shuri,” she said. “You will be working in my lab. I figured we’d get this out of the way first.”

It should have sounded intimidating, but she said it with easy humor and Bucky chuckled despite how uncomfortable he was feeling. 

“Alright,” he replied. Her smile was big and genuine. He could live with working for this girl.

She jerked her head in the direction of the entrance, and he followed her eagerly. The bodyguard watched him intently so he steered clear of her, picking up speed a little to catch up with his new boss. 

“You are probably tired from the flight, but there is one thing I want to show you before you can rest.”

“I’m not that tired, actually. The flight wasn’t that long.”

“Enjoyed our jet?” She threw him a sly look over her shoulder.

Bucky had a retort ready, but then they stepped through glass doors and into the tower, and Bucky’s breath caught in his throat.

It was all steel and glass going upwards hundreds of floors. Glass elevators zipped by. Dozens of people milled around. Everything was so technologically advanced and still there were splashes of color and traces of Wakandan culture everywhere. In peoples’ jewelry, clothes,the patterns on the walls. It was amazing. Bucky watched a bot zip by and tried to mentally take it apart in the few seconds it was in sight.

Shuri lead the way, confidently weaving through the crowd. Or was the crowd merely making way for her?

They got onto an elevator that took them down and then - what felt like - to the side. The journey lasted a few minutes, and Bucky realized the facility must be huge. Not only was it the size of Stark tower outside, it spread underground.  

Shuri noted the awe which must have been written all over his face. “You’ll get to explore later,” she promised. “Not all the floors are open to the public, but I’ll show you the best places. The labs are the coolest anyway.”

“I can imagine.”

“Can you?” Her smirk was a touch smug. “Really?”

Bucky paused for a second, considering. Then, he smiled. He was still as confused as the moment he  stepped into the jet, but the delight was creeping in, filling his chest, making him excited to see what else Wakanda had to offer. “No, not really.” He had no idea what awaited him, but he was thrilled to find out.

“You are going to love it here,” Shuri said. Bucky believed her.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a state-of-the-art lab. There was a table running along the wall around the whole room, gleaming chrome.

Shuri marched ahead while Bucky hesitated at the threshold.  “This is just a secondary lab,” she said as she moved further inside, stopping in front of a table at the far end of the room. “I’ll show you  _ my  _ lab tomorrow. But I wanted to show you this first.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she put her hand on top of a box. It was long and metal and completely inconspicuous. With a flourish, Shuri popped it open.

Bucky stared. And stared some more.

Words left him.

“Is that...is...?” 

“Yes,” Shuri’s reply was soft.

Bucky stood there, unable to move, unable to say anything. He felt tears prickling in his eyes.

Because in that box...there was a mechanical arm.

* * *

Bucky woke up to sunlight. It hit his eyes and warmed his skin, and instantly told him that he wasn’t in his crappy apartment in New York. There, the sun never hit his face. His one window faced north and was blocked by a taller building across the street.

It took Bucky a moment to remember that he was in Wakanda. With a new job. And a new boss. And a new arm.

The whole thing felt surreal. If not for the floor-to-ceiling glass windows opening onto a beautiful view of a tropical forest, Bucky would think it had all been a crazy dream. A figment of his overtaxed imagination. A wonderful fantasy to help him escape reality. 

As it was, there was Wakanda behind his windows. New and amazing, ready for him to explore. 

There were still questions buzzing incessantly at the back of his mind. The biggest one: Why him? Why was he handpicked by the princess of Wakanda ( and wasn’t that an awkward revelation to have while talking to Shuri?) and brought here to work? Yes, Bucky was good. People called him a genius. But couldn’t they have found someone less damaged? Why go to the trouble of making him a mechanical arm if they just could have picked literally anybody else?

Should Bucky be worried? Did they pick him because he was vulnerable? Were they going to brainwash him and turn into an evil supersoldier? 

“As if,” he scoffed under his breath and pushed himself out of bed. The view behind the window took his breath away, just like it had the previous night. It would take a while getting used to. 

Shuri had insisted on running some tests before attaching the arm to his body, so he was due in medical first thing in the morning.

Bucky was given an extensive map of the palace before he arrived, printed out and laminated, but Shuri had rolled her eyes at it so hard he was worried she might hurt herself. She’d grabbed his arm and put a bracelet made of metal beads into his palm.

“I know this might be a little uncomfortable to use with one arm, but you just press here.” She’d put her finger to a particular marking on one of the beads and out had sprung a hologram of a map.

“That’s really cool,” Bucky commented as he rolled the beads between his fingers, trying to make out the symbols on them. The hologram compensated for his movements by keeping the map in the same position. “Very impressive.”

“It comes with a manual,” Shuri said. “So does the arm. I uploaded everything in there so you can have a look later.”

Bucky did get a quick look at the manual, skimming over the info on the holographic screen before bed. He would have been intimidated if he wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep. There were so many modifications. 

He’d assumed  that it was a simple mechanical arm with just the basic functions, probably a little more advanced than your usual model, considering the technology he had seen so far, but still pretty basic. However the thing was turning out to be a fucking miracle. It made him worry about a probable setup a little more, but what did he have to lose? 

Bucky rummaged around in his duffel and grabbed a fresh set of clothes before jumping in the shower. Even the bathroom was ridiculously advanced. The shower itself was a waterfall falling from the ceiling, gentle and warm. And a floor to ceiling window stretched along the whole wall of the room, giving him a gorgeous view of the rainforest outside.. Damn, this place was ridiculous. Magnificent but ridiculous.

The fridge was stocked with food, some international brands but lots of Wakandan ones as well. Bucky grabbed some fruit salad before heading out..Not getting lost in the palace turned out easier than expected. As soon as Bucky stepped outside the apartment, the beads glowed blue and a navigation leading him to the medical wing popped up. They were ready for him there, a quick polite greeting and he was being seated in a chair, and the tests started.

Everyone greeted him politely when he arrived, but otherwise, they were very professional and didn’t speak to him much except for basic medical questions. Bucky was feeling too awkward to start up a conversation.

Shuri appeared after a couple of hours. Bucky was starting to get hungry and bored. He wasn’t allowed to interfere with the tests or even see the results, on the grounds that  _ Dammit, he was an engineer not a doctor.  _

Shuri’s appearance brightened up the room considerably. She was friendly and chatty, inquiring about their progress, shoving a granola bar into Bucky’s hand and feeding him stories about her amazing lab that he was finally going to see that evening. 

“We are ready,” one of the doctors said to Shuri, and the room went still.

A chill ran down Bucky’s spine. While he’d seen the arm for the first time yesterday and read the schematics, he hadn’t imagined this moment. All the eyes in the room were turned toward him, waiting for him to consent to the procedure.

Shuri pushed a holopad under his nose, watching him carefully. There was shy excitement lurking in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to push him. “Are you alright?”

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. Was he? Not by a long shot, probably, but this, this was a good thing happening. Sudden, but good. 

“Yeah,” he croaked.

Shuri watched him for a moment longer, searching his face, probably seeing the panic but also the hope. Did she see how much he needed this? All of this?

* * *

She’d treated him as a friend from the first time they spoke. She had an easy demeanor and it obviously came naturally to her. It used to come naturally to Bucky as well. 

“Alright, then.” She nodded. “Your thumbprint here.”

Bucky was proud that his hand wasn’t shaking as he pressed his thumb to the pad. Shuri patted his shoulder and gave him a bright smile before stepping away.

What followed was a flurry of movement. He was moved to an operating table and doctors in white uniforms crowded around him. When they pulled the arm out of the box Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes from it. The metal gleamed in the sterile lighting of the room, each plate shining brightly. 

“Alright, then…” Bucky echoed Shuri’s words weakly and let the doctors do their job.

* * *

Bucky held the mug. There was steam coming from it, and the smell of freshly brewed tea filled the kitchen. The mug would have been too hot to hold in his flesh hand, but the metal one wasn’t affected by heat. Awesome.

The arm exceeded all expectations. It was better than anything he could have dreamed of. It was a piece of art. A masterpiece. The metal turned out to be  _ vibranium _ . Fucking, vibranium. 

“It’s kind of our thing,” Shuri had said with a mischievous smile. “I’ll explain later. For now, you should rest.”

The arm fit  _ perfectly.  _ It felt like a true extension of his body, no pain, no uncomfortable feeling. The neural link was seamless. The doctors explained that there would be an adjustment period, but after that the controllers in the arm would be responding with no delay to his thoughts and intentions.

And it did. It might even be better than his flesh and blood arm. He could  _ work  _ with his new vibranium arm He could get back in the lab, design and put together tech that no one else could imagine. 

Bucky took a sip from his mug and almost burned his tongue on the hot tea. He groaned in pain and felt tears sting his eyes. He  laughed a light-hearted laugh that bubbled up from the bottom of his stomach and spilled out, impossible to control. It was relief. It was a hope getting validation. It was something very close to happiness.

Distracted, Bucky took another sip of tea and spluttered it all over his new chrome countertop.

* * *

“Ready to be amazed?” Shuri asked as soon as the elevator doors slid open.

“Show me what you got,” Bucky retorted confidently. He was still riding the ‘new-arm’ high.

Shuri smirked - a self-satisfied grin that Bucky was learning to recognise - and dashed down the stairs.

Bucky followed her, curious. They walked down a steel staircase with walls of gleaming metal on both sides. As he descended, Bucky noticed that the metal on either side of him looked familiar in structure.  It looked like what his arm was made out of. But that was crazy. There wasn’t enough vibranium in the world to plate a room. Right?

_ Right? _

The staircase opened onto a large, circular room with a  couple of workstations strewn with basic equipment - a wrench, a screwdriver, some more sophisticated tools Bucky didn’t recognize. One of the stations had a holo screen pulled up, but instead of schematics, YouTube was pulled up. Was that a playlist of cat videos? Bucky might have to investigate that later. 

Just behind the bend of the staircase was something that looked like a landing pad. Except, obviously, it wasn’t, not in a closed up room miles underground. Upon closer look Bucky noticed projectors around the perimeter. But that, however curious, was not the craziest thing.

Bucky looked past the walls of glass surrounding the platform he was standing on to the giant cave outside. It was less a cave and more a huge, underground space with tunnels running in and out of it that were connected by  train tracks. The most futuristic train tracks Bucky had ever seen.

Bucky walked across the lab, blind to the interested glances of his future colleagues, stopping right in front of the glass. The cave looked like a mine. Beams rose up out of the tracks as a train passed. They looked like resonators, but what was their purpose? And what were they mining  _ here _ ?

“They are transporting vibranium,” Shuri explained as she stood by his side. She continued, “Wakanda has a lot of vibranium. Almost everything here is made from it - buildings, clothes, tech.” And then, reluctantly, she added. “Your arm.”

“I thought that might be the case,” Bucky replied faintly. “I figured I was a test subject--”

That surprised a laugh of out Shuri. “Test subject?” 

“Yeah, you know,” Bucky shrugged, watched as another train sped by. “Why else am I here?”

In periphery he saw Shuri turn to him but Bucky was in no hurry to meet her eye. Trains passing by, flashes of light as beams initiated, everything working seamlessly, thought-through to the smallest detail. Whoever constructed this space must have been a true visionary. 

“Because you are a brilliant engineer?” Shuri’s voice grew louder in incredulity. 

“I went through many resumes. Tons. And yours was the best.” Shuri’s voice was still warm but with a hard edge, she enunciated every word, trying to make him believe. “That is why you are here.”

“Isn’t it a bit much? Bringing me here from another country? Making me an arm? Just ‘cause you need an engineer?” Bucky couldn’t let it go, but he’d hoped to have this conversation later and maybe with someone else Who brought up their insecurity issues with their boss? Bucky Barnes, apparently. 

“Not just an engineer,” Shuri corrected him, “A brilliant engineer. A genius. Who also turned out to be a pretty cool guy.”

Bucky laughed at that, and finally turned toward her. Shuri was smiling at him. 

“And what do you need someone like that for?” Bucky asked her.

“Well,” Shuri’s grin turned mischievous, “I usually do all the major research around here myself. Come up with new tech, weapons and defense.”

Bucky lifted and eyebrow at that but waited for her to continue.

“But recently,” she stepped backwards, away from the glass, “We’ve had an increase in workload.” Shuri grinned so hard Bucky thought her face was going to split. “We are working with the Avengers now.”

“What?”  _ The Avengers?  _ Had Bucky heard her right?

* * *

Before the accident, Bucky hadn’t really followed the news. He’d always been so engrossed in his work, that he couldn’t be bothered to turn on the TV or read news websites.

Of course he still was aware of what was going on in the world; he was not a complete shut in after all. But all the squabbles between countries were significantly less interesting than research and construction. And after the alien attack he couldn’t be bothered with such trivial things. At first, the news only reminded him of the nightmare he’d lived through and the bleak new reality he lived in. 

The news was just a growing list of victims. They seemed to enjoy talking about all the companies going bankrupt and savoring the housing problem caused by the destruction while praising the city that survived the attack and the brave heroes that saved it.

Bucky felt sick each time he saw the news. Eventually, the apathy settled deep into his bones, and he stopped caring..

Still, he heard about it when the Avengers broke up.

Apparently,Tony Stark - dumb billionaire that he was - believed regulations were a good thing, and he managed to drag a few team members over to his side. At the same time Captain America - beloved public figure and popular heart-throb - opposed the Accords. Being people of inhuman strength, they apparently couldn’t simply talk it out. No, they had to fight it out. 

The Avengers split up after that, and half of them, led by Captain America, had to flee least they were arrested and put in prison. A logical solution that solved absolutely nothing in the long run.

But the thing was, there was no solid information about what had happened after. Not that Bucky was aware, what with him laying on the crappy couch in his tiny apartment and mostly watching reruns of old tv-shows, but apparently Cap and his gang had disappeared from the face of the Earth for some time. Maybe literally, Bucky now thought with some dark fascination. And then, - a couple of months prior to Bucky’s trip to Wakanda, they resurfaced again. They were showing up in the most dangerous places in the world, helping people out, saving lives, catching ‘bad guys’. The gang with their old routine, only now they bothered with borders even less. That was kind of… cool. A band of misfits saving the world while Tony Stark wallowed in his tower. 

Shuri told Bucky that Wakanda was now financing what was left of the Avengers. Apparently, the king of Wakanda was a superhero himself. Bucky got a short version of the Black Panther story and a promise of a longer tale sometime later. 

Bucky was going to be right in the middle of the action now. He was going to be the most kick-ass engineer in the world. 

Maybe that was an exaggeration; Bucky had only known Shuri for a couple of days but he was pretty sure there was no topping her Still, Bucky was going to invent a shit-ton of amazing things for superheroes.

And he was going to meet Captain America. That was pretty cool too.

* * *

“So, here is your station.” Shuri had a wide smile plastered on her face, and she gestured grandly as she stepped aside to reveal a new station in the lab. It was mostly futile since her tiny frame did a very poor job of concealing it in the first place.

Still, Bucky made an exaggerated surprised face that Shuri rolled her eyes at. But Bucky didn’t need to feign excitement. He’d seen the type of technology Wakanda possesed; it was a decade more advanced than anything he’d worked with before. The station - was sleek and beautiful with glowing holo screens and a white surface that responded to his touch. There were others around just like it. But this one-- this one was his. And so it was special, and amazing, and unique. 

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. So much had happening in the last weeks - the move, the new job, the new arm - and this was the thing that finally got to him. He scrubbed a hand over his face to control emotions.

“That’s...that’s cool.”

“Yeah, it is!” Shuri spun on her heels, leaned over the console, and started typing rapidly. “I put aside a couple of projects for you..” She swiped her hand through the air to pull up a folder. Bucky didn’t have a time to get a good look at it before she was pushing it aside and pulling up a spreadsheet. “Here are most of our finished projects, just for reference. Also,” she smirked over her shoulder. “There are some requests. Most of them are ridiculous, but not all of them.”

“Requests?”

“Yes, from the Avengers.”

Bucky’s mind shut down. He’d known distantly that he’d be working with the Avengers, but now it was actually happening and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

“You are not freaking out, are you?” Shuri inquired tentatively when the silence stretched for too long.

“No!” Bucky shot out way too fast. “No,” he tried again with more confidence. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Alright.” There wasn’t much confidence in Shuri’s tone but she let it be.

Bucky breathed out, stepping up to his workstation. It was truly a masterpiece.

Shuri lingered at his side for a moment, probably checking for signs of a breakdown. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it,” she said quietly. “You know where everything is. You know how to contact me.” She waved her hand, showing off the beads wrapped around her thin wrist. “So, just...get to work.”

“Yeah… I’ll do that.” 

He did not hear her leave, too busy sliding his hands over the smooth surface of the desk. It was cold under his fingers and woke up at the lightest touch. He needed a first project that wasn’t too crazy, something he would be able to finish efficiently. Something useful. Damn, this was amazing. He already loved his new job.

* * *

Bucky did get to look through the suggestion folder eventually. It was quite big. It contained a wide range of documents from small notes to whole videos, some with people speaking straight to the camera and some security footage, obviously pulled later. Shuri was either keeping those for a good laugh or because she thought they contained some genuinely good ideas. 

Like…

“How about hypno arrows?” Hawkeye asked excitedly in one such video. 

“Like, ‘hippopotamus’?” A man whom Bucky didn’t recognize asked, clearly confused but also not rejecting the idea immediately. Maybe the Avengers had taken on some new recruits after the fall out. 

“No, Scott!” Hawkeye was waving him away impatiently. “Like hypnosis. I shoot an arrow right under some guy’s feet, he looks at it, and bam! He’s frozen in place. Hypnotized!”

Scott didn’t reply. He was looking down at his feet thoughtfully.

The next footage was Black Widow arguing with Captain America about whether or not she needed more knives on her person. Bucky had to give the woman credit - she was very creative when it came to hiding weaponry. 

There were dozens of short video clips -  arguments, friendly banter, a carelessly thrown out phrase, more serious discussions. There was no lack of inspiration with those, you just needed to surf over the craziness to land on something solid. Bucky was tempted to just chose the most insane idea and bring it to life. But, for his first time, he decided on something more tame.

Bucky cracked his knuckles - his flesh hand giving off a satisfying pop and the metal one making a smooth, soundless motion - and got to work.

* * *

This was bound to happen eventually, Bucky thought as he wandered the corridors of the facility. They were far from bland - with designer pieces scattered here and there, both modern looking and ethnic, paintings decorating the walls, flower pots appearing from time to time - but it was such a maze of corridors,  that it was just a matter of time when he would get lost. Turned out, that mark was two weeks since starting the job. 

He’d spent all day working on a project, missing lunch, and it was around five in the evening when he finally decided to venture out to grab something to eat. There were three ways to get out of the lab, and Bucky usually took the stairs up and turned in the direction of his rooms. This time, he’d decided to experiment - you know, being the scientist that he was. 

Turning to the right had seemed like a reasonable idea. Bucky had a general idea of the layout of the facility in his head.

He was very  _ very  _ wrong to be so confident. By the time Bucky gave in and pulled up a digital map, he was hopelessly lost. 

Taking an elevator up was his next brilliant idea, but this  one actually worked in his favor. He  _ was  _ capable of making good decisions from time to time. All of the city was visible from this far above, laid out at the feet of the tower. Once he figured out where he needed to go, Bucky turned around and--

Got the sharp end of a spear shoved under his nose.

“Hello.”

There was a woman behind that spear. Her dark eyes were narrowed in warning, lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. Bucky stumbled backwards, and when he hit the window, her irritated expression turned in a smirk. She was clearly enjoying this. 

“Okoyo,” a soft voice called out.

Bucky looked up to see a man standing behind the woman with the spear. He was obviously strong but had perfect posture. Handsome and definitely an aristocrat. He wore dark attire, simple but well-tailored, black with purple lining peeking out. “Please, do not threaten our guest,” he said.

“Your highness,” Bucky performed a slight nod. The necklace around the man’s neck was a very distinct accessory. Shuri had showed him the specs, proud of her innovation and urging the further use of this technology. 

“James Barnes.” The man greeted. The spear was quickly lowered and the bodyguard stepped back to let the king of Wakanda shake Bucky’s hand. 

“It’s-- uh-- an honor.” Or should Bucky say pleasure? What was the etiquette for meeting royalty? 

“A pleasure, Mr. Barnes.” The king gave a small regal nod, the picture of grace and poise. 

Bucky’s brain stalled. His smile was frozen on his face. Should he bow? Had he already missed his window for it? Was he supposed to be looking directly at the king? Was he offending the king? Had he broken a dozen of court rules already? Did Wakanda have a death penalty? Oh god, why hadn’t Shuri told him anything? Why hadn’t he finished reading that etiquette handbook? Oh yes, because with Shuri it was easy to forget about her noble birth and treat her as a friend.

Through the haze of panic, Bucky noticed something: the king’s lips were trembling with the effort of not smiling.

As soon as he realized this, Bucky burst out laughing. King T’Challa followed suit, under amused glare of his bodyguard.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Bucky said, still chuckling. “This must be a horrible breach of protocol.”

“It is,” the king conceded. “But it’s alright. Shuri told me a lot about you. I’m sorry I couldn’t come meet you sooner. Before you stumbled upon the wrong end of Okoyo’s spear.”

It felt appropriate to give the bodyguard, Okoyo, a nod of acknowledgement, something in-between a ‘Hello’ and a ‘Good skills. I’m terrified of you.’

She stared back blankly, like a true badass. Bucky quickly averted his eyes.

“Let me introduce you to a good friend,” T’Challa said.

Only when he turned did Bucky notice another man standing just a step behind him.

He was short but had a commanding presence. He wore a simple, well-tailored dove gray suit. His blue eyes were attentive and cautious, and he looked serious. Probably a government man.

“Everett Ross, ambassador from the UN,” he said.

Bucky knew that Wakanda had recently stepped out of the shadows to show the world its true might; he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the rest of the world was starting to make its way into the country. Ross went straight for a handshake, firm and confident like they taught in Ivy League schools. 

“Mr. Ross,” Bucky said, shaking his hand, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Mr. Barnes. And I prefer Agent Ross.”

“MI5?”

“CIA, actually.”

“Of course, sorry.” 

“Agent Ross is a good friend of ours,” T’Challa said. “He helped us save our country several months ago. I’m sure Shuri told you about it.”

“She doesn’t talk about it much,” Bucky admitted. He had heard of the civil war that had almost ruined the country and threatened the whole world, but Shuri - the girl who could talk for hours, excitedly jumping from one subject to the next, - was surprisingly reserved when it came to that topic. Bucky didn’t want to pry, wanted to respect her boundaries. 

T’Challa nodded, and the atmosphere in the hallway grew somber for a moment. It was Agent Ross who broke the silence.

“I’m sorry but we need to discuss some things before the meeting,” he said tentatively but resolutely, it was a clear dismissal. 

“I hope we can talk more later,” T’Challa said to Bucky. 

As they left, Okoyo gave Bucky a nudge with the dull tip of her spear toward another bank of elevators. Bucky nodded in thanks, not bothering to wonder how she’d known he was lost.

As Bucky waited for the elevators he spotted a jet landing in the yard and wondered briefly if that was the person the king was supposed to meet. And then he went on with his search of the way back.

* * *

_ “ _ Here I am! Rock you like a hurricane!”   
  
Bucky screamed out the lyrics, enjoying his time alone in the lab. Shuri was away, checking up on the Wakandan outreach center in the States and then in France. She never let Bucky play his 'old man music' when they were working together, so he was blasting it full force, compensating all the times he had to listen to her Kendrick Lamar tracks. Although, when he looked at it this way he did feel like an old man. Just a little.

It was hard to seem like anything but when your boss was sixteen years old. And a genius sixteen-year-old at that.Sometimes Bucky observed her at work and felt completely inadequate. This girl had accomplished so much already. How could anyone keep up?

He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t a race. They were working together to help people.

So that meant, he could enjoy his ‘old man music’ whenever he could.

“Here I am!” He screamed the lyrics, viciousness crawling into his voice born out of frustration of being unable to unscrew the shell of a smoke bomb. It just would not come apart. Seemed like the seal had melted from contact with high temperatures - extremely high temperatures. Bucky couldn’t even make a guess about what could have done that. It was surprising and challenging, how many crazy factors he had to take into account while coming up with gadgets for the Avengers. Bucky loved it.

“My body is burning, it starts to shout. Desire is coming, it breaks out loud,” Bucky sung the lyrics under his breath while trying to pry the shell open. He got the screws out but the two halves were still stuck together. He was dramatically timing his pulls with accents in the music, but even that was futile. 

“Dammit,” Bucky cursed under his breath. Looked like he would have to use the laser scalpel. A win for technology over brute force.

“That’s a good song,” a voice said from behind him.

Bucky was lucky his reflexes were good enough he didn’t drop the bomb. He squeezed the shell before whirling on his heels to face the intruder. 

_ Oh shit.  _

“Oh shit.” Bucky very carefully put the bomb down on the workbench at his back.

“Hey,” the intruder said somewhat sheepishly. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky replied weakly. He was feeling slightly faint, because there was Captain America -  _ Fucking Captain America _ \- standing in the middle of his lab. Casually leaning on a support beam of the staircase, looking ruggedly handsome, with his faded uniform and his full beard.

Bucky hadn’t known he had a thing for beards until that moment. He was pretty sure there was a smile hidden underneath it.

“Shuri’s not here,” Bucky said, following a simple logic that there was no need for Captain America to be looking for him.

“I know,” Cap shrugged. Was Bucky allowed to call him that? Even just in his head?‘Captain America’ was kind of a mouthful. And, wow, Bucky’s mind went straight into the gutter. “You must be James. Shuri mentioned you before--”

“Bucky. People call me Bucky.”

Captain America lifted one eyebrow in amusement but didn’t ask. “People call me Steve.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true?”

“Excuse me?” 

“I mean,” Bucky fumbled, “I’m pretty sure they call you Captain America.”

Steve laughed. A light breath of a laugh that lit up his face and eased his posture. “Sometimes,” he replied. “Now less than before, though.” Somber notes crept into his voice. 

Bucky felt compelled to say, “I honestly doubt it.”

Steve ducked his head so Bucky had no way to know if he was smiling or frowning, but at least he wasn’t leaving. Quite the contrary, he was stepping further into the lab, eyeing Bucky thoughtfully. It was a slow, deliberate gaze, sweeping up Bucky’s body and stopping at his face, studying his features for a long moment. It was hard not to fidget. National icons didn’t check him out every day. 

“Need help with that?” Steve asked him, jerking his chin toward something on Bucky’s left.

Bucky turned to see his workbench cluttered with tools and pieces of equipment, among them the unfortunate smoke bomb. Bucky picked it up, rolled it in his palm. “And you are offering to…?”

“I can crack it open.” 

Bucky squeezed the hard metal shell, imagining what kind of strength it would take to open it.Bucky shrugged. “No thanks,” he shrugged. “I can use my state-of-the-art laser knife.” So, maybe he wanted to brag a little too. Not that there was anything particular to brag about. “But it’s nice of you to offer to-- to tear this thing apart with your bare hands.” Bucky wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or trying to flirt.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

Bucky smirked and put the bomb down. “So what brings you here, Steve?”

When he turned back around, Steve was standing much closer than he was before. Only a few steps separated them Bucky and could make out the color of his eyes. Wow. All those promotional photos were  _ not  _ photoshopped.

“I was hoping to get some help with this.” Steve pulled out something from his belt and held it out to Bucky in the palm of his hand. It looked like a flash drive. “Got it from the bad guys.”

Intrigued, Bucky picked it up, turning the drive in his hand for a quick visual inspection. No labels, obviously. No damage that he could see.

“Is it encrypted?” Which was a redundant question, the Avengers would not be bringing it to the lab otherwise. Bucky was tempted to just connect it to the computer and check it out, but that would be careless. And he was nothing if not professional. 

“Nat says so,” Steve replied. “We’re hoping you guys can do something about that.”

“Sure.” Bucky shot him a smile. He twirled the thing between his fingers just to have something to do.

Steve was looking around the lab but his eyes strayed back to Bucky every time, lingering and then turning away. He was in no hurry to leave, but he also wasn’t saying anything. The silence grew a bit awkward but Bucky didn’t want it to end. His mind was racing in an attempt to come up with a conversation topic, but all he kept coming back to was,   _ So...criminal life, huh? _

Instead, Bucky asked, keeping his tone light. “How’s the life on the run?” It wasn’t much better, but still.

Steve chuckled, which was a better reaction than Bucky expected. “Surprisingly comfortable,” he replied. “But I guess those are the perks of having influential friends.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded with a smile. “I’m starting to see the fun in that too.” He waved a hand to call attention to the fancy lab.. “I don’t even know what I did to deserve this.”

“Shuri said you’re brilliant,” Steve said with a slight frown. “Actually, she couldn’t stop talking about you. I admit, I did not get all the science she kept bringing up but the enthusiasm was unwavering.”

Bucky ducked his head, sheepish. Shuri was always lively and energetic, and when she was obsessed with something, she got what she wanted.  

“She flew me in from New York,” Bucky said. “That must mean something.”

“Oh yeah, she mentioned that. T’Challa was surprised, but he knows her ideas are always good ones.”

Bucky was curious about the king. Apparently, he’d been flying all over the world, pursuing new political connections. Everyone wanted to be friends with a country that owned all the vibranium in the world.

“I’m from New York, too,” Steve said, interrupting Bucky’s thoughts.

Bucky snorted, “Yeah, I know.”

“Really?”

“Steve,” he replied, his tone just a touch sarcastic. “Everyone knows.” 

“I keep forgetting that,” Steve admitted good-naturedly. With someone else, it would have sounded pretentious. With Captain America - it was just a fact, stated so naturally you just accepted it. 

“I’ll do you one better,” Bucky said, because apparently he didn’t know where the line between cute and creepy was. “I’m from Brooklyn too.”

“Really? That’s great. I actually had an apartment there, before everything…” He shrugged and looked away. 

The shift in the mood was subtle but tangible. For Bucky, the first alien invasion was a touchy topic. For Steve, it was probably that time he was hunted down like a criminal and had to fight his own friends just to stay free. And protect his ideas, which Bucky respected, but the way he saw it - mostly to stay free. 

“Hey, do you know Hawkeye?” 

“Uh, sure,” Steve said good-naturally but with confusion apparent in his eyes.

Bucky pushed down on his embarrassment; he so did not need to come off as a Hawkeye fan, even though the guy was great. Fighting alongside superhumans and keeping up with them easily? That was super cool. But Bucky did not need Steve thinking he would rather be talking to another Avenger.

“I had some ideas for his weapons. But I thought we should have a discussion before I start working on anything.”

“That sounds great. Clint would love that.” 

How could something so patronising sound so sweet and genuine was beyond Bucky, but there Bucky was, flushing like a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, really,” Bucky said, “just a couple ideas.”

“Well, Shuri usually just goes ahead and does what she thinks is best. No reason you shouldn’t do the same.”

“So just do it?” Bucky asked with a grin.

“Sure. Why not?”

* * *

The blast hit him full force, knocking him off his feet and throwing him into the wall. It hurt, but at least he didn’t crack his skull. Bucky counted his blessings as he groaned and picked himself off the floor.

There was a dent in the workbench, soot forming a starburst pattern on the bent metal. Good thing he’d tried his experiment in a smaller lab, separate from the main one.

Bucky must have made a minor mistake in his calculations, resulting in the whole thing going boom. Not his proudest moment. 

Bucky’s ears were ringing as he inspected what was left of his equipment. The sound threw him back to memories of noise and screams and falling debris. It was a scene that haunted his dreams, turning them into horrible nightmares from which he couldn’t escape. He had hazy memories of what had happened after, but that moment was always clear - fear already in the air, people scrambling to get away...But where could you run when the whole city was under attack?

It had been such a lovely summer day. Bucky’s building had huge glass windows, and he saw -  _ they all saw  _ \- the dark shadow of the alien ship blocking out the sun, coming straight for them. It glowed a surreal blue, technology combined with a living creature. It had veered sharply to the side, crashing into their building..Bucky remembered the groan of metal as the walls collapsed around him, he could still feel the sting of broken glass biting into his skin, and then the weight, crushing him, most of it on his left side. And his arm on fire with pain, burning through his brain, his consciousness giving in, falling into the darkness, thinking he would never come out of it.

He did. In the hospital days later. The doctors said he’d been going in and out of consciousness, but mercifully, Bucky didn’t remember that.

A loud crack brought Bucky back to the present. The dust of the memory faded, giving way to the bright white of the lab. Bucky had broken the table, leaning onto the already damaged structure too strongly.

He looked down, at his hands - one flesh, one metal - and breathed a sigh of relief. Reality was solid and bright, and he held onto it so he didn’t slip back into the nightmare.

* * *

“You’re Scott, right?”

Bucky had decided to check out the recreational area, which turned out to be way less elaborate than the name suggested. It was just a den with a TV and a couple of nice, soft couches. There was a kitchen island hidden away in a corner, a couple of book shelves, a huge desk with a computer for emergencies.

No one was planning any official meeting with the Avengers for him, so Bucky had started to “run into” them in random places.

Bruce Banner had turned out to be a really nice guy. Reserved and quiet, very calm. - It was hard to believe he turned into a huge green monster when he was angry. Bucky was warned not to use The M- Word anywhere around him or, preferably, at all, but he was still getting used to this completely opposite image.

The guy on the couch craned his neck around, trying to look backwards without actually moving. His foot was on the coffee table in front of him, an ice pack on his ankle.

“Who’s asking?” He sounded wary, but the look on his face was open and friendly.

“Bucky. New tech guy.” Understatement of the century, but Scott seemed to like it.

Scott gave a bark of a laugh, tossing his head back He threw out his hand, expecting Bucky to come closer for a handshake. “Yeah, I’m Scott Lang. Cap mentioned you.”

At the mention of Steve, warmth rushed through Bucky’s chest and settling as a flush on his cheeks, Bucky tried to keep it under control. He couldn’t turn into a blushing teenager every time someone mentioned Captain America, but he was pleased to hear that Steve had mentioned him to his super friends.

“Would you be willing to answer a couple questions about your suit?” Bucky asked Scott. “To discuss possible modifications?”

Scott’s expression became an exaggerated wince. “Hank will kill me if I show his technology to anyone.” At Bucky’s confused expression, he clarified, “Hank Pym. It’s his technology. He’s very protective of it.”

“Well…” Bucky shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. That did not go as planned. He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Another small, awkward wince flashed across Scott’s face, and he shifted carefully on the couch, making some space for Bucky. The process involved a lot of grunting and cursing every time he moved wrong and jerked his leg. Bucky became more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Finally, with one last curse, Scott plopped himself on the end of the couch, foot sitting safe on the table in front of him.

“I’m watching Star Trek. Wanna join?” he asked Bucky.

Bucky only needed a second to make a decision. He may not have gotten the job he wanted, but it looked like he was about to make a friend.

“Cool arm, by the way.”

* * *

Sneaking around at night wasn’t a particularly good idea. Nevertheless, Bucky was craving a snack, and for some inexplicable reason, nothing from his well-stocked fridge seemed appetizing. Wiser people had stated that we always wanted what we couldn’t have and, in case with food, it was undeniably true. So, Bucky abandoned the comfort of his rooms in search of something more interesting.

There was a kitchen area somewhere above the labs, he knew that for sure, had glimpsed it on his first day when Shuri was giving him a tour. There were living quarters somewhere in that vicinity, but he had no idea if anyone actually lived there or not. One thing he did know for sure: the staff around the facility liked keeping everything well-stocked. It didn’t matter that this kitchen probably contained the same food Bucky’s did. The thrill of getting to that kitchen, navigating a half-forgotten route, was enough to make even the most mundane food delicious. Maybe Bucky just wanted an adventure.

He was lucky he didn’t run into anyone in the halls - although the worst they would do would give him directions - but Bucky felt a particular thrill in his skillful evasion, however unnecessary it was.

He found the kitchen on his third try, taking two wrong turns and ending up first in the medical wing and after that in the training rooms. He was greeted by the sight of gleaming chrome surfaces and white polished counters. Presiding over all of it was a fridge the size of a wardrobe. Perfect. He crossed the room on silent feet, positioned himself before his target, and pulled the door open carefully.

In the next moment, he was pushed aside roughly. He made a noise, more surprise than pain, dodged a second kick, and struggled to block a third.

In the dark, he couldn’t see his attacker, but he felt the power behind every hit and tried to balance it out with the force of his metal arm. That seemed to throw off his opponent; they weren’t expecting an attack from his left side. Bucky only had a second to celebrate his win when his legs were kicked from under him, and he fell heavily to the floor, all the wind knocked out of him.

“Uh…” Bucky looked up and winced when the lamp on the countertop came to life. He needed a moment for his vision to adjust, but when it did he saw a woman standing over him.

Her red hair hung over her face as she leaned over his prone form. Her dark suit hugged her body like second skin, but any excited thoughts it might provoke were immediately tamped down by fear. With eye trained for detail Bucky could discern at least a dozen weapons on her person, not to mention the ones in plain sight. It was easy to guess who she was.

“Hi,” Bucky said, still breathless from the punch to his gut. “You must be Natasha Romanoff.”

“You must be Bucky,” she shot back. Jerking her chin she indicated for him to stand up. 

Bucky had to steady himself with one hand on the counter. “Shuri must have told you about me.” He was getting tired of hearing that all the time.

“No,” she pressed her lips together as if hiding a smile. “Steve mentioned you.”

“Oh…” That sounded way more intriguing. Now, just to play it cool. “What did he say?” Not even close to cool, judging by the growing grin on Natasha Romanoff’s lips.

She shrugged, all casual and careless, as if she didn’t know he was hanging on her every word. “Just said there was a new guy at the lab.”

“Oh, well--” 

“A  _ cute  _ new guy,” she continued. “But that I read between the lines.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious but curious. Would it be wise to trust the Black Widow, who worked with the good guys, but was a known spy? He had no doubt she would play him just for her own amusement, but what reason did she have to play matchmaker unless Steve was actually interested? He figured, he could at least give it a try.

“So, you know Steve well enough to know what he’s thinking?” He asked. She didn’t miss him using Captain America’s first name.

“He’s not that hard to read.” She turned away to grab a can of soda from the fridge, throwing him one as well. She smirked at him over her shoulder as she rummaged through the food in the cupboard. “Cap’s kind of predictable. Although, you came as a surprise.” 

Bucky  flushed with embarrassment and pleasure. “So I have a chance?”

“A pretty good one,” Natasha said as she snatched a bag of chips from a high shelf. 

Bucky allowed himself a moment to grin stupidly while her back was turned and then schooled his face into a neutral impression. Judging by her eye roll he wasn’t terribly successful. 

It wasn’t how he’d imagined his night going - sitting on the kitchen counter, chatting with the Black Widow, sharing unhealthy snacks. At some point she allowed him to call her ‘Nat’, but in his mind Bucky really enjoyed enunciating the full title. They discussed their respective stints in Russia, argued about music and movies, enjoyed judging other people on their life choices. That last one turned out to be particularly enjoyable. It had been a while since Bucky let himself gossip about other people. He had been stuck in his own misery for so long, self-pity had become his best friend. But now that things were looking up and he was starting to feel like himself again, Bucky found some self-confidence brewing under the surface. 

“So can you fight?” Nat asked him.

The conversation had migrated back to Steve and the Avengers but was mostly focused on their non-hero lives, so Bucky hesitated and had to turn away from fishing out the remaining chips out of the bag to look at Nat closely. 

“Not as good as you, obviously, but I’ve got some moves.”

Natasha pursed her lips, eyed him thoughtfully. “Alright,” she said, sliding off the counter in one elegant move. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“What?” Bucky said.

But Nat was already leaving, disappearing into the corridor without looking back, knowing he would follow.

“You want to fight me?” Bucky called out, rushing after her. The right question was, of course, ‘Do you want me to fight you?’ because there was no guessing who the winner would be and Bucky was a sensible man, in a sense that he never did anything that might cause him to get beaten up within an inch of his life. 

“I just want to see what you’re capable of. Maybe teach you a couple things.”

Bucky trailed after her, feeling lost and just a little scared. Also, strangely excited. “But why?” he called after her.

“Captain America’s boyfriend got to be able to hold his own in a fight, right?” Natasha smirked over her shoulder.

Stupefied, Bucky followed her to the gym.

* * *

In the following days - while he recuperated from the minor injuries and bruises that Natasha inflicted upon him during their training - Bucky found himself thinking about Steve a lot. In a completely professional manner, of course. Captain America’s uniform was iconic; it had gone through numerous changes over the years until it had become as functional as it was stylish. Bucky felt a strange mix of admiration and amusement when he pictured serious men sitting down and - along with planning how to put as many pockets in those combat trousers as possible - thought of ways to make those abs look even more fabulous.

The uniform was pretty good as it was; there was no need for a major redesign. Changing details, while helpful, would be just that - changing details. Too small to attract Steve’s attention, to earn his admiration. Bucky needed something big. Something amazing.

That thought haunted him through sleeping and waking hours. But unlike his nightmares, it didn’t drain him, it propelled him into action. 

That’s how Bucky found himself wandering downstairs to the lab in a middle of the night. He’d just had an idea - which was ambitious and way too big - but it felt right and he was eager to start planning. Except, when he stepped out of the elevator and down the stairs, Bucky could only stop and stare.

There was a kid in his laboratory. Well, alright, the sole owner of the lab was Shuri, but Bucky did come to see it as his space too and seeing it invaded by a middle school kid was worrisome.

“Hello,” he called out.

The boy flailed in shock and knocked a miniature wavelength manipulator off the table. His hand shot out even before he turned his head in the direction of the falling object, and by the time his eyes landed on it, it was held securely in his palm.

“Good reflexes,” Bucky remarked, flummoxed.

“Yeah...uh, thanks.” The kid dropped his head, embarrassed but clearly pleased.

“Sorry, who are you?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” The kid ran a hand through his hair bashfully. “Peter. Peter Parker.” He held his hand out to shake Bucky’s, realized they were standing too far apart and jerked his hand back sharply. It was hard to tell whether he was nervous from breaking into the lab, or just jittery in general. “You must be Bucky.” His face lit up with a smile.

Bucky was charmed but still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

“Shuri told me about you,” the kid babbled in explanation. “We video chat sometimes, brainstorming and meming, you know.”

Bucky did not know, but he nodded nonetheless. He was getting tired of feeling a hundred years old.

“So you know Shuri?” he asked the kid.

“Yeah, obviously. She had stuff to do but she let me play with her things while I’m waiting.” He fiddled with the manipulator, but at Bucky’s disapproving stare  put it back on the table. 

“Waiting for what?” Bucky asked. He felt like an idiot with all these questions, but he was still a little slow from lack of sleep. 

“Mr. Stark. He’s talking with the Avengers. I don’t think it’s going well. It’s been a couple of hours.”

Bucky had heard a helicopter touch down an hour before midnight, but he hadn’t paid it much attention. It was slightly unusual, it was mostly T’Challa who used it to rush away into the night except as far as Bucky knew the king was having a romantic dinner with his beloved that night. Shuri was very adamant at helping her brother woo Nakia. 

Apparently, it meant Stark had arrived in Wakanda. Not something Bucky expected to happen, but then, he should have known better. Not much went on in the world without Stark’s meddling. Natasha had said that he was a good man at heart, if sometimes a little misguided, but Bucky was exceptionally biased when it came to Tony Stark.  

“So, I’ve been poking around the lab for a while,” the kid continued. “And I read up on your research. I hope you don’t mind.”

He sounded hopeful as well as apprehensive. Bucky’s research was open on the holoscreen. He never bothered with closing the tabs and locking everything up when he left the lab. The scientists in Wakanda followed strict ethics guidelines, none of them would ever try stealing someone else’s research. 

“You know these reflectors here?” the kid went on despite the discomfort he was clearly experiencing. “Uh, I think if you change the wavelength just a little, it might be more productive.”

“The wavelength is a variable, it correlates with the data from analyzer,” Bucky countered.

“Yeah, I get that, but if you adjust your basic parameters a little-- Like this, see,” he scribbled some equations on the responsive table top and they appeared on the hologram side-by-side with Bucky’s. “The coefficient would be higher.” He pointed proudly at his calculations.

“But then you’d run into energy problems.”

“Yeah, but when you have all vibranium in the world at your disposal, that’s not a problem, right?” He was looking at Bucky with those huge hopeful eyes, like a puppy who’d done a trick for the first time. It was impossible not to compliment him on a work well done, more so when it turned out the kid was right.

“You said your name was Peter?”

“Yeah, Peter Parker.”

“Alright, Peter, let’s work out this problem.”

Hours later, when Shuri finally got to the lab, she found them engrossed in another argument. Bucky felt like he was winning this one, but seriously, who knew?. Especially after Shuri joined the discussion. It looked like Bucky would have to get used to working with teenage geniuses. 

* * *

The next time Bucky ran into Steve, he literally ran into him. . Or rather, Steve ran into him while storming out of a meeting room.

Bucky stumbled, but managed to catch himself with one hand on the wall. Steve just stood there, gaping in surprise. So much for those superhuman reflexes.

Bucky had to drag his mind away from a brief fantasy straight from a harlequin novel. Steve catching his fall, wrapping his hands around Bucky, their chests pressed together and their lips only inches apart, moving closer in slow motion--  Bucky might have watched too many romantic comedies during his darker days.

“Hey.” Bucky gave Steve a tentative smile which was met with a tired grimace. Exhaustion and weariness were apparent in the lines on Steve’s face and the dark circles under his eyes. It set Bucky’s nerves on edge. “Is something wrong?”

Steve’s features relaxed from a worried frown that seemed stuck on his face earlier, and he breathed out, slow and deliberate. “Negotiations aren’t going well.”

“Ah, yes…” 

Stark could make anyone go crazy, it was no surprise Cap was almost losing it. But instead of voicing that particular thought, Bucky  patted Steve’s shoulder reassuringly. “Want some coffee?”

“Weren’t you going somewhere?”

“It can wait.” Bucky had just been heading back to his room to pick up some notes he’d left there. “Come on.” He curled his hand around Steve’s bicep, feeling bold, and steered him away.

It was tempting to invite Steve to his apartment for coffee, but coming onto a guy  when he was feeling down seemed like straight-up creeper territory. So, Bucky led the way to the less-used communal kitchen, the one where he first met Natasha that strange but fun night. There was a nice coffee maker there, a masterpiece that sat proudly on a polished chrome surface. Bucky always made a mess when he tried out some of the fancier settings, so this time he settled on simple black coffee. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked Steve.

“Not sure I can disclose the details,” Steve admitted with a note of regret. It was clear the guy needed to unload at least a little. He ran a hand over his hair, messing it up. Bucky smiled to himself at the sight of those blond tresses sticking out in every direction, there was something strangely adorable about that. “All I can say is that some people are being very difficult.”

“Stark?” Bucky fired out despite his previous resolution not to get involved. His resentment must have snuck into his tone because Steve looked up from his coffee sharply. 

“No, actually. Tony is being surprisingly agreeable. He’s trying to mediate.” 

Bucky knew his personal grudges shouldn’t cloud his judgment, but to him Tony Stark would always be the man whose company brought down the small lab Bucky used to work for, their lawyers throwing lawsuit after lawsuit at them.  Stark didn’t seem to know or care what his company was doing while he was flying around the world playing superhero. Bucky’s lab had survived only to be destroyed by an alien invasion, but that was a territory Bucky preferred not to revisit. 

“Some people aren’t happy with the threat of being thrown in jail for trying to help out,” Steve continued. “And  _ some people  _ claim since they don’t belong to only one realm they should not be bound by the same laws, or any laws whatsoever.”

Bucky frowned at that. “You have someone from another world on the team?”

“He’s actually from New York,” Steve replied with a wince. “But you know, mystic powers, interdimensional travel, guarding some powerful artifact from the forces of evil. The usual stuff.” He finished with a smile.

“Oh yeah, just a normal Tuesday for you.”

“Except it’s Thursday,” Steve countered.

“Nah, man. It’s Tuesday. How long have you been locked up in that room?”

Steve paused with his mug halfway to his mouth. He said flatly. “Longer than I thought, apparently”

“You need to unwind. Relax. Get out of the palace.”

“Would be you believe I haven’t been outside once?” Steve’s mood had lightened up a little. “The Quinjet always lands within the palace walls, and I’ve never had a chance to go into the city.”

“Me neither.” Bucky shrugged fake-casually. “I don’t know many people here, and I’d like to have some company if I’m gonna go into the city.”

That was totally smooth. Bucky was the king of smooth talk.

“Well,” Steve intoned. “I can be your company. If you want.”

“Sure.” It came out naturally and not like Bucky was about to burst with excitement. 

* * *

Bucky was buzzing with energy throughout the rest of the week. It bled into his work, made his designs a little more eccentric, a little more daring. Shuri commented on his chipper mood, but Bucky refused to spill even one word, evading her questions slyly and enjoying her growing frustration.. 

“I’ll find out anyway,” she promised before drifting away to work on her own project.

From what Bucky could tell, peeking from behind his own screen, Shuri’s priority these days was further development of her navigation software. Bucky was truly shaken the first time she had shown him their remote vehicle control technology. Imitating the whole vehicle for flawless transition and the most effective  operating was so innovative, it was beyond anything that ever existed. The whole world was a dozen steps behind Wakanda, and Bucky felt lucky to be privy to all this knowledge. He got to fly a plane using remote operation, loving the feeling of flight without actually being in the cockpit. He was planning to take apart the code at some point to fully understand how the system worked.

For now though, Bucky was busy analyzing something both curious and possibly disastrous that the Black Widow and Hawkeye had brought back from New Zealand.

The sound of a door opening drew his attention to the stairs where a man was ambling down into the lab, glancing around with curious eyes. Shuri waved hello to him and, after exchanging a few words, gestured in the direction of Bucky’s workstation.

Bucky pretended to be busy while Sam Wilson made his way over.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re Bucky, right? I’m Sam.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, trying for friendly but not overly familiar.  He had to maintain an image of a professionalism with at least some of the superheroes. “Anything I can help you with?”

“I’ve been having some problems with my goggles.” He placed a small case on the table, popping it open to reveal a set of dark maroon goggles, apparently with some modifications made. Visually, there was nothing wrong with them.

“Software problem?” Bucky inquired while he picked them up for a closer examination.

Sam shrugged. “You tell me.”

“Alright. I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Sure, yeah…” Sam lingered near Bucky’s desk, looking uncomfortable.

“Anything else?” Bucky asked him.

Sam looked away, hesitating. His eyes swept the room, assessing the situation, but for what? “Here.” He put a card on Bucky’s table.

Bucky, confused but intrigued, picked it up. It was a piece of heavy, white paper, folded in two.

“From Steve,” Sam explained and darted out of the lab.  

For a second, Bucky froze with the card in hand. A smile tugged at Bucky’s lips as he opened the card. In it was Steve suggestion for when and where to meet up to explore the city.. It was so old-fashioned, so charming.

Bucky had to fight the urge to hide the card, instead propping it against a keyboard so he could glance at it while he worked. He couldn’t wait. 

* * *

Colors were coming to life around them. The Tower - as Bucky had started calling the palace - was the only place he had seen so far. The mountain of glass and metal gleaming in the sun with the green of a jungle as a backdrop couldn’t be described by such an old-fashioned word. It was a magnificent skyscraper, a masterpiece of design and technology, however the most bright things in it, including some decorative elements, were Shuri’s dresses.

Bucky stepped out of its tall glass doors and down the stone steps into the city, and he felt his head spin with the abundance of bright colors. Reds and blues and greens, clothes and accessories, sand under his feet and clear sky over his head, flowers and trees seen from a distance. It was a marvelous kaleidoscope. And there, at his elbow, the most marvelous thing of all - Steve walking by his side, relaxed and smiling. Bucky felt light, like anything was possible.

Wakanda seemed like a home of contradictions, but if you looked at the whole picture, not fixating on the details, culture and technology fit together so seamlessly, you stopped noticing when one ended and the other started. Bucky had never seen anything like it. Stark Tower was just a natural piece of landscape. Big and imposing it was supposed to project a sense of power and wealth. Bucky never liked it. It was an architectural miracle, sharp and overbearing, but it never evoked any awe.

In Birnin Zana, the capital of Wakanda, every building, however imposing it was, looked light. Towers strove for the skies, glass windows side by side with old wooden tiles, with small stone homes and shops at their feet. Dusty roads instead of asphalt, with modern train tracks running down the middle. 

Bucky almost stumbled over one, jumping to the side before he could hit his foot on the rail and fall down on his face. Steve reached out quickly to help him, but Bucky danced away from his touch in his attempt to keep his balance. He paused, sending Steve a sheepish grin, embarrassed; elation that was building up inside of him beat every other emotion though, and he got over it quickly, jumping back over the track to walk by the other man.

It was a sunny day but thankfully without the overbearing heat beating down on them. People milled about on the street, some in a hurry, others keeping a leisurely pace, stopping by the shops and street vendors, greeting each other loudly, warmly. Bucky let their voices wash over him, the language was unfamiliar but the tones were friendly. He knew these people were at peace. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked.

Bucky glanced at him, noticing how the sun turned the tips of his hair golden, made the blue of his eyes glow. Steve was dressed simply in washed-out jeans, a white shirt, and a light leather jacket. It worked perfectly for him.Then again, anything would look good on a body like that. Bucky’s silence must have lasted far too long - he had not spoken up since they stepped out of the palace, engrossed in taking in every smallest detail. Wakanda and it’s people fascinated him. He didn’t feel at home, but then again New York stopped being a home a long time ago, but here at least he felt light. Like everything was possible. Bucky enjoyed that feeling. 

“It’s all so...bright,” Bucky replied. He probably sounded dumb, but Bucky’s mind was on a one-sided track and even a presence of someone as captivating as Captain America couldn’t detain him. 

Steve stared straight ahead, eyes taking in the street unrolling before them. “It is, isn’t it?” His smile was genuine and sweet when he turned to regard Bucky.

A group of kids ran past, jostling them and bringing closer together; neither moved away when the last girl rushed by, trying to catch up to her friends. Her sneakers had LED lights installed and flashed blue and yellow with every step she took. 

Small houses and shops on either side of the street had colorful patterns decorating the walls. Since they started their walk, Bucky was yet to see two repeating designs. It was all a chaos and disarray, but organic. He was coming to like this place more and more.

“So, you haven’t been anywhere but the tower?” Bucky asked.

“The labs and the tower,” Steve replied. “Our headquarters are in Wakanda but we don’t spend all that much time here.”

“Too busy flying around the world saving people?” Bucky asked, half a joke.

“Something like that,” Steve grinned, but the smile was short-lived. “It’s generous of King T’Challa to give us a sanctuary. He’s provided us with technology and a place where we can feel safe, it’s more than we can ask for…”

You caught the man who killed his father, Bucky bit down on that reply. 

Steve continued. “But it’s still not home.” He turned away, probably fighting with memories of New York and how it used to be. Bucky used to do that a lot, after the attack, back in his crappy apartment drowning in self-pity. Nothing felt right then; it seemed like nothing would ever feel right again. And yet, mindless drifting through life had brought him to this new harbour. A place that was making him believe that happiness was not a long forgotten concept.

“Just because you miss your home doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy your time somewhere else,” Bucky said, aiming for deep and thoughtful and missing by a mile. “I mean,” he fumbled with words, “This is a good place. Truly good. Just let yourself enjoy it.”

“I’m certainly enjoying my time now,” Steve bumped their shoulders gently, glancing sideways at Bucky. A blush was high on his cheeks, but despite the embarrassment he sounded confident. 

“Good to know,” Bucky replied, throat suddenly dry. His heart fluttered like it hadn’t since high school when he met with his first crush. Steve, handsome and wonderful, was like a lifetime of crushes in one. 

They had wandered away from the crowds and to the bank of a majestic river flowing through the capital, and Bucky found the courage to ask a question that he had wanted to ask all day. 

“Steve,” he called out softly, finding that his voice was weak with nerves. He wanted to turn away, the great expanse of the river beckoning, but he was holding onto his strength and faced Steve head-on.

“Hm?”

“Is this a date?” There. It was out now. He was fairly certain they’d been flirting, but the line between friendship and romance was blurry sometimes. 

Steve held his gaze, steady and confident. It seemed like nothing could phase him, but Bucky had a feeling this conversation was making him nervous too. When Steve replied, it was in a tone fighting to be casual and failing terribly. “I would like it to be. If you want that too.”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed out. “Okay.”

The smile he got in return was brilliant. 

“Good,” Steve said.

“Good.” That seemed to settle it. Except for one little detail. “Although, if this is a date, then you owe me an ice cream.”

“Ice-cream? Is that a part of modern dating etiquette?”

“Don’t play the ‘I’m an old man’ card. We both know you’re all caught up.”

“Oh, and how would you know?”

Bucky smirked, “I’ve made friends.” His feet were light as he dashed along the riverbank, unable to stay still. A sharp twirl put him face to face with Steve again when he caught up.

“What friends?” Steve asked.

“Nat.” Bucky enjoyed the trace of panic that flashed in those bright blue eyes. “She’s cool. Told me some stories.” After she kicked the hell out of him in the training room, but maybe it was better to keep that part to himself. He laughed, “Relax. Nothing too terrible.”

Steve paused, nervous for a minute, and then he exploded with laughter. It was such a clear sound, free of any burden, that Bucky couldn’t help but follow. 

The sun beat down on them as they strolled along the river bank, the city loud and bright around them. Eventually, they stumbled upon an ice cream shop. They had dozens and dozens of flavors, and when Bucky couldn’t pick one, Steve suggested they try all of them. It was a mad idea, so of course, Bucky agreed.

* * *

Those pesky little resistors were giving Bucky trouble. Wakandan technology was so modern it was actually the future, but some basic elements were never out of fashion. Bucky was still getting used to the metal hand, it had been almost a month now and, while he was perfectly capable of performing any manual task, some smaller things still eluded him. It would need some getting used to, Shuri had said. The arm’s programming evolved with time, self-learning and adjusting to his movements and his grip, but it wasn’t that often that he worked on such fine details. The program just didn’t have enough data to adjust to this new conditions. While it did its data collection, Bucky had already accidentally crushed three transistors between his fingers. This was an annoyance, but at some level he was curious how many more he needed to destroy for his grip to adjust. Well, better not to test that. While Shurir wasn’t stingy with spare parts, it wouldn’t do to bankrupt the country in favor of his curiosity. 

“Having trouble there?” Shuri materialized by his elbow, careful not to startle but relishing his mild surprise.

“When did you get back?” Bucky glanced over his shoulder, noting her reserved clothing. She usually wore simpler ensembles when travelling. 

“An hour ago. Brother wanted to see me first.” She shrugged and leaned over to look at his screens. “This is interesting.”

“Just an idea,” Bucky was quick to defend. His fingers itched to close the window, but that would only betray his embarrassment. Changing the subject was not subtle, but it was certainly a more graceful way out. “I’ve actually been working on this.”

He pulled up another file, successfully covering up the previous file from her view. This one projected a model of a suit. Sleek and dark, it was supposed to be the perfect camouflage. 

“Is that--?”

“I took your shielding technology - beautiful, that” He sent Shuri a look, noting her pleased smile. “I figured we could apply that to a full-body suit. The prototype is designed for the Black Widow, but I figure we can apply it to anyone’s suit.”

“I think she would like that.”

“I hope so. We’re kind of...friends now?” Bucky shrugged, unsure. 

“Another friend? I’m getting jealous. But, seriously, that’s so cool!” A slap on the shoulder jostled him sharply - Shuri packed a punch. She twirled his chair so that they were facing each other. He did not like the sight of her smile, too much mischief to it. “Is she the only one you’re friends with?”

It was easier to just get it over with. “Yes. I went out with Steve.”

“ _ Steve _ ,” Shuri practically sang the name, wearing a teasing grin and waggling her eyebrows. 

It was very hard not to blush. Bucky failed. The heat that rose to his cheeks was a source of infinite amusement to his boss.

“Don’t be shy. It’s great!” 

“Is it?”

“Of course! And, well, Captain America, huh? Good choice.” There was no arguing with that. “Want to gossip?”

“Not sure about that. And, anyway, it was only one date. Who knows where it’ll go from here.”

“Alright, then. Want some help with your project?”

“That might be amenable.” With that, Bucky turned back to his workstation.

“No, not that one,” Shuri insisted. Her hands were quick on the keys as she saved and closed up the suit files and pulled up the thing that had embarrassed Bucky earlier. “This one. I think you could use a few pointers on how to design a proper shield.”

* * *

_ That's some crazy technology, _ was Bucky’s first thought as he rounded a corner. Seriously, why would you need a floating cloak? The owner must be very old-fashioned and very eccentric. 

Bucky stepped closer to it, keeping his eyes on the thing, searching for details that would betray its secrets. Where was all the hardware hidden? The most probable place was in the collar, but he didn’t see anything but fabric - lush red and gleaming gold, heavy folds swaying as if moved by the wind. 

Cautiously, Bucky reached out. The fabric drifted out of his reach,  and the cloak floated away before whirling around as if to face him. There was a slight tilt of one shoulder, a movement of the collar that gave the vague impression of a person taking an interest. Bucky got the feeling he was being appraised. 

What was this thing? And who made it? 

The cloak, after a moment of consideration - and wasn’t that a strange thought - drifted closer, a corner lifting, as if...as if offering him a hand. Carefully - who knew what it was capable of - Bucky reached out and ran his fingers over the fabric. It was soft and fluttered gently under his touch, drifting just a little, like it was breathing.  _ Creepy _ , Bucky thought. But also, kinda nice. 

“Excuse me.”

Bucky jumped back, startled and embarrassed, and turned on his heels. A man was standing in the doorway, watching him, with an amused look on his face. Nothing particularly remarkable about him, only the grey around his temples that looked out of place. Still, it gave him an air of sophistication, so Bucky decided, if it worked, it worked.

“I see you’ve made a friend,” the man said.

“Uh…” It took Bucky a moment to realize he was addressing the cloak. Which floated past Bucky and to its owner. “Hello.”

The man glanced at Bucky. “Hello,” he said and turned back to his cloak. Wow. And Bucky thought Stark was obsessed with his suits.

“Mr. Barnes.” Agent Ross appeared from the same doorway, paying no attention to the cloak that had suddenly turned its attention toward him, following like a loyal dog. 

“Agent Ross,” Bucky greeted. He couldn’t quite look away from the technology floating just a step behind him. “And…?”

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” the man with the cloak said.

“Interesting technology.”

“Technology?” Strange looked confused for a moment. But then his face cleared, expression turning into one of amusement. “Oh this?” He beckoned and the cloak came to him, wrapping itself around his shoulders and, uh, changing Strange’s rather inconspicuous attire into one fit for a Renaissance fair. “Not technology, Mr….?”

“Barnes,” Agent Ross supplied while Bucky stood speechless.

“Magic.” Strange declared with a heavy dose of drama.

“Magic,” Bucky repeated faintly. “Magic. Okay.”

So, that also existed.

* * *

Steve was busy for the next few days. Tension was growing in the negotiation rooms. When three sides were trying to come together and find  common ground, well, that couldn’t be easy. Bucky was only now catching up on what had happened in Vienna. The news reports were far from a reliable source, and he was reluctant to ask any of the participants directly.

Nat mentioned the Sokovia Accords a few times, but it was hard to gauge which side she favored. Bucky knew that she had originally agreed  with Stark, but something must have changed her mind. Steve was unsurprisingly closed-mouthed on the subject, and Bucky would rather sacrifice another hand than interrogate him. Shuri didn’t have much information to share, and talking to T’Challa was not an option, even though he definitely knew everything down to the smallest detail.

The Parker kid proved to be unexpectedly useful when he - in his stumbling ‘Oops, I shouldn’t have said that’ manner - mentioned that he’d been present at the big fight between Cap and Iron Man. He shared some details but the problem with the kid - he knew what had happened but he did not understand it. Apparently, Stark had dragged him into the fight, sure that his point of view was the only right one and so there was no need to explain the other. Peter’s adoration of Tony Stark was sweet though and made Bucky dislike the man somewhat less. Funny how that worked.

It was four days after his date with Steve - and yes, he was counting - when Bucky’s Kimoyo Beads flashed blue with an incoming message. Shuri had offered to code the functions into his arm’s software - it should work just fine since it was pure vibranium - but Bucky figured that would be way too weird for him. A little invasive, also? At least he could take the beads off and leave them on his nightstand.

Bucky pressed the communication bead lightly, and a text message sprang into existence. The name flashing at the top caught his attention first. He wasn’t even aware that Steve had his own Wakandan communication device; however the surprise faded quickly and turned into fluttering pleasure. Steve was asking if Bucky could meet him later in the day.

“Hell yeah, I can.” Bucky didn’t even bother re-recording the voicemail. Let Steve hear how eager he was for a meeting.

The day dragged after that. Bucky kept glancing at the clock at the bottom of his screen, but the number changed so slowly. Even his newest project couldn’t keep his attention for long. Clint had made a request for some ridiculous arrows, and Bucky figured he could humor him, by actually making some. Hypnotic arrow? That was stupid. But an arrow that projected a hologram? That could work as a good distraction? See? He was actually good at his job. 

“What’s with all the sighing?” Shuri’s voice rang out into the lab, making everyone turn. Curiously, they turned not to her but to Bucky, and their expressions were mildly annoyed. There was absolutely no doubt who their boss was addressing.

“Sorry?”

Shuri’s face appeared over his holo screen; she had managed to soundlessly cross the lab while he was looking elsewhere. “You’ve got something on your mind,” Shuri said. It wasn’t a question.

There was no use resisting. “Some _ one _ , actually.”

Shuri’s eyes lit up. “I knew it.”

Bucky had heard the stories. He knew the princess had a weakness for matchmaking, he just never thought he would be the subject of royal interference. 

“When is your next date?”

“In, uh, four hours.”

“What are you going to wear?”

Bucky was not prepared for that question. Steve was not the type of person to care about clothes so Bucky never really bothered with that either. He had only brought t-shirts, jeans, and a couple of jackets with him to Wakanda. “Um, this?” He tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

Shuri’s eyes grew large. “No way.” She shook her head. “Come on, I’ll find you something impressive.” 

And that was the start of a crazy three hours. Shuri dragged him through the corridors of the lab and back to the Tower’s living quarters, to a room that was…

“Wow.”

...filled with clothes. Floor to ceiling. Hangers, shelves. Classic suits and things with more flare, traditional Wakandan patterns and bold futuristic designs. 

“Whose is this?” 

“Brother’s,” Shuri threw over her shoulder. She was already rummaging through drawers. 

Bucky froze on the threshold. “This belongs to the King?”

“It’s his old stuff. I don’t think he even remembers that he has this stuff.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.” Bucky took a tentative step inside. When nothing happened - no intruder alarm sounded, and he didn’t instantly evaporate for trespassing into royal space - he grew bold and took two more steps. 

“He was a real party animal, you know, when he was young.” Even though Shuri was facing away, the smirk was obvious in her voice. “We kept the clothes just in case. Or, you know, for situations like this.”

Bucky gathered the courage to run his hand over the hangers holding T’Challa’s suits. The fabric felt incredibly expensive. 

“And how often do ‘situations like this’ happen?”

“More often than you’d think.” She disappeared behind a door. Was there even more closet space in there? 

Bucky took his time looking over a whole closet filled with watches. Shelf after shelf of gold, silver, titanium, vibranium. It was the latter that interested him the most. Nowhere else in the world did they produce watches from vibranium, so it was interesting to see Wakandan technology combined with a craft as old as watchmaking. Bucky’s hands itched to take a pair and pick it apart, but the urge subsided as soon as he heard Shuri calling out.

“This will look good.” She threw a shirt at him as soon as Bucky stepped into the side room. There was a huge mirror stretching the length of a wall, so he was met with his own befuddled reflection first. Maybe his look wasn’t all that exciting: a t-shirt that had once been black but was now more of a faded grey, jeans that were slightly frayed at the edges, an old leather band encircling his wrist (an artifact of his old life that kept him grounded). He was in good shape, and the clothes, although old, didn’t look too shabby. And Steve didn’t care about clothes, right?

Shuri cleared her throat - such a subtle action for a girl so exuberant. “Want to try that on?” She nodded at the shirt Bucky held in his hands.

The material felt nice and soft under his fingers. Its color was a deep blue, dark enough that he wouldn’t stand out too much but colorful enough that it differed from his usual style. The cut was tight-fitting but not too much, casual enough that he didn’t look like he was trying too hard. 

“I’ve also found a pair of pants.” Shuri’s reflection was waving enthusiastically, so Bucky turned to face her. A pair of dark jeans was laid out on an ottoman. They looked form-fitting. “I’ll get some shoes while you change.”

Bucky swallowed past his dry throat, and  stood there for a long time after Shuri slipped out of the room. Why did this feel like  _ a moment _ ? Something unexpected and life-changing. It was just a small thing - tiny really in the grand design - but Bucky was getting emotional over it.

Finally, he decided he should try the clothes on. The jeans were a tight fit, just as he’d expected, but they hugged his legs and ass in the most flattering way, so a little discomfort was a fair price to pay. It had been a while since Bucky had dressed for going out. The shirt was a good fit too. The tone, however subtle, went well with his eyes.

When he was ready. he invited Shuri back inside. She brought a pair of sneakers and a leather belt with her.

Bucky twirled in front of the mirror obediently, getting only ‘hmm’ and ‘eh’ as reactions. Occasionally she would step in front of him, straighten a fold here and there, shake off some lint on his shoulder. Her eyes were narrowed in contemplation. Bucky hadn’t even been this nervous when she reviewed his newest idea for a project.

“We have to do something with your hair as well,” she said.

“Hair?” What was wrong with his hair?

“Yeah. A little product would give it a proper shape.”

Bucky sighed loud and long to show how insignificant he found the whole thing. It was a lie, partly, but a necessary one to keep his dignity. “Alright then, princess. Do what you must.”

* * *

Steve was running late. However that wasn’t the reason why Bucky was nervous. He was hyper-aware of his new clothes and carefully-styled hair, worrying that Steve wouldn’t like it, that Steve would find his attempts to change laughable, that he wouldn’t be interested in someone superficial. Damn, Bucky’s mind was awash with stupid thoughts, one after another. Logically, he understood how ridiculous he was being, but logic had long departed. and nervous energy was now running the show. 

Bucky couldn’t resist grabbing his leather jacket on his way to meet Steve, it was the one thing that was purely his, something he had always loved and cherished. It was old, but passed as vintage. That was good. Bucky figured his vintage boyfriend would approve.

Oh shit, did he just say ‘boyfriend?’ Was he really dating Captain America? Was Captain America aware that he was dating Bucky Barnes? Was Bucky getting ahead of himself?

“You look troubled.”

There were no footsteps, no clothes rustling, just the sound of Steve’s voice as he materialized at Bucky’s shoulder.

“I mean, you look great.” Steve glanced away, trying to hide his blush. “Really great. But troubled.”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky was quick to reassure him. “And, uh, thanks.”

It wasn’t clear where to go from there. Steve was suspiciously silent, his gaze skipping to Bucky and then quickly away, body language open, but damn, what was going through that gorgeous head of his? 

“So what do you want to do?” Bucky asked.

That snapped Steve out of his trance. “I actually have something planned.”

“Oh, an actual date?” The idea filled Bucky with excitement.

Finally, Steve’s eyes stopped on his face and stayed there. His answer was loud and clear and filled Bucky with warmth. “Yes.”

The plan turned out to be borrowing a hoverbike from the royal garage and taking a short trip away from the capital. Even though Steve called it a ‘bike’ Bucky wasn’t sure the term was accurate. It looked more like a small jet without a roof. It mostly consisted of a platform, engines hidden under its delicate-looking surface, and a stand for connecting with the craft and driving. In some obscure way it reminded Bucky of the helm on a pirate ship deck. 

Steve slipped one of the Kimoyo Beads off his wrist and dropped it onto the panel. The craft instantly came to life, soundlessly lifting off the ground and locking into the necessary coordinates. As far as Bucky knew there was nothing there. 

He clung to the rail tightly as the craft whisked them away from the city. Beautiful plains opened up on both sides, the green so pristine it felt unnatural. A flock of birds took to the sky, disturbed by their passing. Bucky watched their flight, the dashing colors of their feathers flashing spots across the blue sky.

Soon, the terrain turned rocky, dark red mixing with green, and with a swoop they were flying over the river. Cool droplets of water splashed on their faces. They crossed to the other side just as the craft - not designed for prolonged voyages over water - started to lose speed, and went uphill from there.

As the bike crested the hill, Steve pulled it to an abrupt stop, drifting on air and taking a sharp turn to make the craft freeze on the spot. Bucky felt it all in one swoop, the motion throwing him against the rail, but all that was inconsequential. Most important was the magnificent view. Down at the foot of the hill, a canyon started to open up, one molded for centuries by dropping water. Waterfall after waterfall all merged into one majestic river. It was a display of power and beauty and it left Bucky breathless. 

It took him a while to notice the blanket laid out near their landing site. He only paid attention to it once Steve jumped off the craft and headed to the side. It was a simple checkered blanket, looking surreal amongst all this remote beauty. Next to it was a picnic basket.

“Steve?” Bucky called out, jumping down as well. “Are we having a picnic?” There was possibly too much glee in his voice.

“I thought it would be nice.” Steve sounded unsure so Bucky hastened to rush to his side and drop unceremoniously down onto the blanket.

“It’s amazing,” he reassured Steve.

That’s how they spent the rest of the day. Eating and talking, enjoying the beauty of Wakanda. The sun started to set and the whole valley was bathed in red and gold, the water reflecting colors and turning them into something ethereal, impossible. But Bucky tore his eyes away from it so he could observe his date instead. 

Sun played with Steve’s hair, turning some strands copper and some gold. The shadows on his face grew longer, turning the familiar into the mysterious. He too was something out of this world.

“Steve,” his voice was a whisper, afraid of disturbing the mood that had settled over them.

“Yeah, Buck.” 

There was nothing he wanted to say. Steve’s gaze felt like a caress, a promise. Bucky longed for the touch of his lips, for a gentle press of his hand. It wasn’t something he could voice, but thankfully he didn’t need to.

Steve knew. Steve understood. Steve was leaning in for a kiss. Bucky met him halfway as the last rays of the setting sun warmed their skin.

* * *

Bucky couldn’t fall asleep. He was too wired to calm down and drift off. It was a problem he was having a lot lately. Insomnia was a familiar friend but this was something new; usually it wasn’t the excitement that kept him up. Every new date with Steve turned into a procession of images, memories and dreams alike, rushing through his head every time he went to bed.

Their first kiss replayed in his head again and again even though it had happened weeks ago. They couldn’t escape the tower every day,  but even on busy days, Steve managed to find a moment to sneak into the lab for a chat, or if possible, a quick make out session.

The other scientists kept sending Bucky  _ looks _ , both annoyed and knowing, as if they were angry with him for dragging his boyfriend to work but were secretly proud of him.

And, yes, they were definitely boyfriends now, Bucky had checked. When faced with the question, Steve had made huge eyes and said that he believed Bucky had to make an honest man out of him after everything they had done. Bucky had whacked him over the head with a box of cookies and kissed him silly. He’d never look at the kitchen the same way again.

Weeks later the negotiations had finally moved ahead. Amendments were made to the Accords, and the UN finally gave up on arresting Avengers for trying to save the world.

Bucky had even warmed up to Tony Stark. They’d met briefly, Steve making the introductions, and Bucky hadn’t felt an immediate urge to punch the arrogant billionaire in the face. It probably had a lot to do with Bucky’s new mindset, but Stark was also less of an asshole these days. All the shit that had happened seemed to him humble him significantly. 

Nat showed up from time to time to ‘workout’ - as she called it - with Barton in tow, kicking his ass in the training room and interrogating him about his love life in the process. He fended off her questions more easily than he  fended off her attacks. 

Shuri smirked at Bucky every time he so much as mentioned Steve. But she also gave him sweet smiles and praised his work. Her help on Bucky’s ‘personal project’ had been invaluable.

Every day was filled with so many events, people and emotions all crowding in on him, in a good way, but sometimes it all got to be too much. His mind was abuzz, processing everything when he should be sleeping.

Bucky stared at the ceiling. His bed was incredibly comfortable, the silk sheets felt nice against his skin, perfectly cool in the warm air of the room. He was breathing slowly, deeply, hoping sleep would come for him. It didn’t.

A view of the tropical forest stretched out behind the glass wall to his right. At night it was very dark, but never black and white. Deep blue of the sky held a splatter of glittering stars. Shuri had once said that they were blinding bright if you watched them in the desert, Shuri said once. Far away from the light pollution of the city you could even see the Milky Way. It must be beautiful, Bucky had thought at that time. And then made a mental note that it would be great idea for a date.

Steve deserved all the best things. It was strange that Bucky had only known him for a couple of months but couldn’t imagine his life without him now. The image of Captain America had been moved to the side, put on some special shelf sure, but center stage belonged to Steve - simple, sweet guy with a heart of gold and a ton of wit. He was kind but hard, strong but sensitive. Perfect in every way with all his little imperfections. Bucky sighed, acknowledging now that he had completely reverted to his high school self, pining away and dreaming in the moonlight. 

Wind rustled through the tops of the trees, but he couldn’t hear it. It was completely silent in his room.

Well, if Bucky had to choose, excitement wasn’t such a bad reason for insomnia.

* * *

“Wait! Don’t-”

Too late. He’d already fucked up. The short circuit destroyed the chip, releasing a magnetic pulse that fried his work station before Bucky could even say  _ “Shit!”  _ A sharp woosh of sound and dark smoke coming from the stand where the main hardware was hidden. Worst of all, his metal arm jerked and then froze for a second. Bucky bit his lip to keep a line of colorful expletives from coming out and waited for the arm to reboot. A small magnetic pulse like that wouldn’t be able to shut it down permanently, but it could cause problems.

This day was one disaster after another. 

“Is everything alright?”

Bucky gave a weak smile to his colleague at the nearest workstation. Thankfully, hers was still functioning. “Fine.”

At last, his arm’s sensors lit up with a pale blue glow. He flexed it - first elbow, then wrist, then fingers. The thumb’s response was too slow. He’d have to talk to the doctors about that. Otherwise, everything seemed to be working fine. 

Leaning both hands on the table, he took a deep breath. He’d messed up because he was distracted, and he was distracted because...Damn. Bucky had been aware that when the new Accords were signed the Avengers would be free to go on missions again. Not that they particularly contained their ‘enthusiasm’ before but now with an official blessing they could rush away to save the world, both by their own decision and by UN’s request. 

Those missions on the sly - Bucky had known about those. Where else would they be picking up mangled tech to pull apart and repair? He’d had no reason to care about those before,, but now Steve Rogers was more than just a figure in a costume of red, white, and blue. He was someone very dear to Bucky and the thought of Steve risking his life was driving him mad. 

A small group of Avengers were leaving for a mission that day. Steve was busy right now with strategic planning and getting his equipment ready, but Bucky had promised he would see Steve off when he left..

He wasn’t going to get any work done today, Bucky realized, so he could drop by the medical wing to have them check out his arm before that. He still had enough time.

So of course,  _ of course _ , nothing went as planned. His appointment took longer than expected, the damage inflicted by the magnetic pulse worse than he’d thought.. He had to rush out of there. Considering Bucky had to make a detour back to the lab, he was already late when he rushed out onto the helipad. 

He noticed the main group first, Nat with her bright red hair the center of attention. To her right was Clint, inspecting his quiver. Bucky was pleased to notice his newly-designed arrows among the bunch. There was also Scott, looking slightly lost, as usual. There was the Scarlet Witch and Vision, neither of whom Bucky had met yet. Vision held his attention for a long moment, curiosity raising its head at the sight of someone who was a machine that came alive.

But all of them were forgotten when Bucky spotted Steve. 

In uniform but with the helmet off, he was standing away from everyone else, a frown on his face visible even from a distance. He noticed Bucky immediately, taking a few steps to meet him halfway.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky managed to get out, breathless. “Had some trouble at the lab.”

“It’s alright.” Steve leaned close to press a quick kiss to his cheek. And then he noticed a case that Bucky was holding. “What’s that?”

“Uh…” It was still hard for Bucky to breathe from all the running around, and his sudden uncertainty wasn’t helping. Tongue-tied, he picked up the case with both hands and presented it to Steve. 

The lock disengaged with a quick swipe of fingers, with a low hiss top part of the case slid to the side. Bucky wasn’t looking at it; he was watching Steve’s reaction. The way his brows scrunched in confusion, frown deepening when the case opened. And then...blank, surprised, awed.

“Is this…?”

“Kinda,” Bucky shrugged, looking away.

It had seemed like a crazy idea at first. Ambitious beyond measure. Like, seriously, who was he to attempt such a thing? But as Bucky got to know Steve better, as his feelings developed, his confidence grew. He was within his rights to attempt it, to make Captain America a new  _ shield _ . Except, it wasn’t Cap he thought about while he built it. It was Steve, his Steve who went out and risked his life, fighting to keep the good in the world. And his Steve needed something to protect him. While Bucky couldn’t rush into combat and jump in front of a bullet for him, he at least could create something that would. 

“There’s a manual.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, but he couldn’t think of anything else. The moment demanded big words, promises or confessions, but Bucky was never good with grand gestures.

“Thank you.” Steve’s voice rang clear between them, and Bucky had to look up to meet his eyes. Earnest and so full of emotions; that beautiful blue was mesmerising, pulling him in. There was no way to resist, no need to really, so Bucky let it guide him, leaning over the case to kiss Steve. Anything to get away from that gaze; it held so much. Too much.

“You’re amazing.” Steve’s whisper was only for the two of them, hidden in a single breath between their lips. 

Bucky’s eyes stung, and he kissed Steve once more to avoid the raw emotions bubbling inside of him. 

“I gotta go,” Steve said when they pulled apart. 

In a way, Bucky was glad. He was definitely not in control of himself in that moment. It felt like something had overturned in his chest. It hurt, but left him breathless with happiness. Exhilaration made him light-headed but the expectation of a hard reality pressed him down. Could things really turn out alright? He’d been unhappy for so long that the prospect of happiness seemed impossible.

“Yeah.” He pressed a hand to Steve’s chest, right over the star, pushed lightly, letting Steve know he could go. “Go save the world.” It was meant to be a joke but his voice cracking ruined the intention.

Steve regarded him for a long moment, searching his face before stepping backwards, the case containing his new shield held tightly in his arms. 

“See you.” He gave a salute and dashed to the jet, jumping up onto the ramp in a swift move that looked almost impossible.

The jet’s engines roared, its vertical take-off impeccable, and it rose to the air smoothly, taking Steve away to some unknown danger.

A string inside of Bucky snapped. He chased after the jet, taking jerky steps toward the helipad. He could see Steve hanging onto a ramp, looking down at him, a figure growing ever distant with each passing moment. Away from the protection of Wakanda, outside of this perfect little world, anything could happen to him. Anything.

“I love you!” Bucky screamed with the full force of his lungs. His flesh hand trembled violently, and he could barely breathe. There was no way to see Steve’s expression from so far away, but he could feel the eyes of everyone else on his back. 

That might have been the most stupid thing he had ever done. Still, he didn’t regret it. But that didn’t mean he didn’t wish for the earth to swallow him whole.

* * *

“That was...very dramatic.”

Bucky grunted from inside the circle of his arms. The work table touchscreen felt nice and cool under his cheek, so he pressed his face to it, the crook of his elbow creating a nice little cradle that blocked out all light. It was a lovely hiding place. If only he could hide all of himself just as easily. There was no one else  in the lab. It was dark outside, and even the most devoted workaholics had gone home, leaving Bucky to brood alone.

But of course,  _ of course _ , Shuri would come find him. A sweet, considerate girl who would torture him until he admitted to acting like an idiot and screaming out a confession in front of  _ everyone _ . 

“You okay?”

“Please, let me die in peace,” Bucky mumbled. 

“No dying in my lab.”

“So kind of you.”

There was a rustle of fabric as she leaned her hip on the table, and then--

“Ouch!” Bucky jerked back and away from a finger poking him in the shoulder. “That hurt.”

Instead of apoloizing she wacked him over the head.

“What the hell?” Bucky whined.

“That’s for being an idiot.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ve beat myself up plenty already. Damn.” He slumped back down onto his work table. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”

He jerked away when he felt her presence closer, fearing another pointy finger, but instead she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well, maybe not in such a reckless manner. But all in all--” Bucky sensed her shrugging. “It’s better than keeping it in forever. You know, like my brother did. Denial never helps anyone.”

Shuri grew silent after that, letting Bucky think. But he couldn’t. His mind was stuck on that one moment - so shocked by his own outburst, the screaming in his head, that he hadn’t paid attention to Steve’s reaction. Was he surprised? Stupid question. He must have been shocked. And after that? Pleased? Happy? Annoyed? Planning to ditch Bucky after the mission? What if he decided not to come back to Wakanda at all? Easy to avoid an unwanted lover when you have a Quinjet.

“Shit,” Bucky breathed out with feeling. 

“Hey,” Shuri’s hand patted his shoulder until he looked up. Her face was troubled. “It’s alright. Honestly. I think it’s great!” Her enthusiasm, always so refreshing was daunting now.

Bucky resisted rolling his eyes, she would only press further with the cheery attitude. “I think I need time to think.”

Carefully, he slid off of his chair, evading her touch and heading outside. Shuri didn’t follow.

* * *

It was easy to find a cozy little hut away from the city. Well, not really a hut, more like a lovely little house. Tropical forest stretched on one side, dark and dense with no walking trails visible. He wouldn’t wander in there alone. On the other side was a lake, it’s surface a brilliant mirror to the endless blue sky overhead. All in all, a perfect place for a reclusive vacation. 

Obviously, he had brought work with him. Since his station was fried there was a need to collect backup, so instead of transferring all the data to a new station, he requested a laptop plus a couple of useful toys and he was all ready for work. He only stayed at the lab long enough to find out that the Avengers’ mission had gone alright. Iron Man had to fly by for some backup, but all in all, people were saved and nobody was seriously maimed. Among superheroes, that counted as success. And who was Bucky to argue?

His hermit abode was not actually that isolated. Kids from the nearest village loved hanging around. He was something of a rarity for them, and Bucky was always happy to indulge his guests.

Shuri appeared  three days after he run off - and he was realistic enough to admit that yes, it was no ‘tactical retreat’ - citing she was bored without him alone. That did not sound true, but he was grateful for the intrusion, not to mention she brought him snacks.

“So, the Avengers have not yet returned.”

Bucky should give her credit for giving him a moment to enjoy his chips first. He should. But he wouldn’t. He glared at her in answer.

“Brother says they had to make a detour. Some big trouble in Prague. I hope they will be careful with all that old architecture.”

“Well--” Bucky swallowed past the lump in his throat, and that was definitely not a chip stuck there. Nervously, he brushed the crumbs off his pants. “I sure would love to see it someday, so...yeah.”

Shuri watched him, eyes contemplative and lips pressed together. She was hard to read. Was she annoyed or full of pity for poor old Bucky?

“So, you know,” she said, done appraising him, “the lack of response is due to Steve being busy, not unwilling to reply. I’m sure he wants your next conversation to be in person.”

“Maybe,” Bucky hummed thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s the perfect way to avoid me. ‘Sorry, busy saving the world,’ He might just never come back.”

“Not Steve,” Shuri reassured. There was no doubting her confidence. And she was right. Not Steve. Sweet, kind, wholesome Steve.

“Dammit.” Bucky was getting the urge to hide again.

“It’s going to be fine,” Shuri assured him and offered a box of chocolates.

Somehow, trouble in Prague turned into trouble in Berlin, which then became a mess in Amsterdam. A week and a half passed and there was no sign of the team in Wakanda. That was disconcerting, in its own way, comforting. After all, Bucky knew he was doomed if the team came back and Nat fed him a story about how busy Steve was and how he couldn’t come back yet. Then Steve’s avoidance of him would be indisputable.

This way, Bucky still had a chance. Even though sometimes, when he was alone in the hut with nothing but his own thoughts, an idea started to worm  its way into his mind.

Something bad was happening. Out there in the world. Otherwise, the Avengers wouldn’t be hopping all over Europe like an overly-excited Easter Bunny. Records showed that apart from Stark, they were also eventually joined by the Hulk and Spiderman. Doctor Strange was working on the issue from somewhere in Asia. Ant-Man had also got involved, and it looked like he had brought his own back-up as well.

But here was nothing about it on the news, and even records that Bucky managed to get his hands on weren’t particularly detailed. Short of marching into the tower and demanding answers from King T’Challa and Agent Ross, there was nothing he could do. 

So, naturally, Bucky worried. Mostly, it showed in him burying his nose in his work and inventing weapons, each one more outlandish than the last. The crazier the idea sounded, the more invested he got in its creation. That’s how he ended up making a built-in taser for armor and a ring that could emit sound waves, like the ones heroes used to break glass in spy movies. All things considered, a useless device, but the effort required to put the thing together - with all those nanochips and a tiny power source - was enough to keep his mind off more troubling subjects for a couple of hours. 

He was working on explosives that could emit a magnetic pulse (like the one that had fried his work station) when he heard the sound of a jet landing. It was barely audible, but out here there were no noises to conceal the sound.

Bucky’s first guess was, obviously, Shuri. She’d said she wanted to pay him a visit - not as a friend but as a boss - and he was mildly worried he was going to be reprimanded for something. After all, he was spending most of his time on useless ‘science fiction’ projects. Things that were used in sci-fi but would be ridiculously impractical to use in real life. Or just way too expensive to manufacture.

But when Bucky stepped out on his porch it wasn’t Shuri he saw. The jet was a bigger model, built for a team and it was mangled badly, the left wing bent terribly. Good thing those jets mostly used their engines for vertical take-off. There was a scratch along the nose, running across the windshield, and  it looked about to crack any second. Tail lights were an unknown concept at this point, there wasn’t even a trace of where they used to be. The cargo bay door, when it dropped down fully, made such a terrible screech, Bucky couldn’t help but wince.

And crossing the field, halfway between that horrible contraption and Bucky, was Steve, looking just as beaten-down as the jet. His uniform was covered in grit and blood, traces of what looked like soot were smudged across his cheek, as if he had tried to wipe it off and given up halfway.

Bucky’s heart seized at the sight of him, beating with pain for the battle Captain America had left behind and with relief that Steve was coming back to him.

Stunned, he stood there watching as Steve climbed the porch in two long  strides. Bucky opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Which was fine since it was Steve’s turn to talk. Except, talking was not his goal.

Strong arms wound around Bucky, pulling him against Steve’s  body. Their chests touching, breath syncing, and then Bucky was being kissed within an inch of his life. He couldn’t even fully process the situation, but he responded eagerly, throwing his hands around Steve’s shoulders. There was grit under Steve’s fingernails and traces of something slightly slimy on his uniform. But nothing mattered in this moment except Steve’s lips on his.

“Thank you,” Bucky heard between kisses and hummed appreciatively into Steve’s mouth. “Your shield saved my life.”

_ That’s good, _ Bucky thought, but decided replying was not mandatory. Pressing Steve against the porch rail sounded like a much better idea. The hands on his back were sliding lower, and he was thinking  _ Nice  _ and  _ Finally  _ when Steve suddenly pushed him away, gently but firmly, so that there were at least a couple of inches between them. His smile at Bucky’s indignant whine was blinding.

“What?”

Steve was quiet, watching him with that huge grin on his face. He was enjoying Bucky’s impatience too much, so it was only fair that Bucky run hands through his already messy hair, just to mess it up some more as punishment.

“Just,” He paused, giving Bucky a chance to meet his eyes. “I love you.”

“Oh.” Strange, how Bucky already managed to forget about that small issue. Except now, he had nothing to worry about. “Good.”

“Good?”

Bucky nodded seriously. “Good.”

And he kissed Steve, again and again as the sun set. And from the corner of his eye he saw the lake lit up in red and yellow and gold. 

 


End file.
